


Can't We Just Roll for the Moment

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Confessions, Ghosts Made Them Do It, M/M, Mutual Pining, PWP, Podfic Welcome, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Riding, porn without plot/plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 11:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16117571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: “This doesn’t count as proof,” Shane says.





	Can't We Just Roll for the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to squeeze in one last fill for the sept shyan scavenger hunt and so this happened! it's mild, but it's there, mostly. this also ended up being more feels-heavy than i meant it to (i ended up cutting about 500 words of fluff tbh).
> 
> anyway! big thanks to hannah for beta'ing!
> 
> enjoy!

“This doesn’t count as proof,” Shane says as his hands flex on Ryan’s hips. He’s sweating.

Ryan laughs so hard he misses Shane’s shaft; Shane’s erection goes skirting along the skin between Ryan’s cheeks. Ryan has to stop and brace his hands on Shane’s chest, nails biting into his skin. He shakes with laughter even as his thoughts are still tinged with laughter. Going breathless, he takes a deep breath to stop his laughter.

“This _so_ counts as proof,” Ryan hisses. He rises onto his knees again and gestures to Shane’s dick. “Now shut up and help me out here.”

Shane bats Ryan’s hand away and holds his cock by the base. “Just do it,” Shane says, snickering.

Ryan rolls his eyes and tilts his head back as he starts to sink down again. This time, Shane’s cock catches on Ryan’s stretched rim and there’s only a split second of resistance before Shane’s sliding inside. Ryan hiccups a gasp and he loses all balance; his hands slide across Shane’s sweaty chest and his legs give out. He drops down suddenly, taking Shane in to the hilt, and wringing a throaty moan from Shane in the process.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane groans. He grips Ryan’s hips again and they both stay completely still aside from the heaving of their chests. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Wasn’t really intentional, big guy.” Ryan tips forward and presses his face against Shane’s neck. Everything smells like sweat and heat and faintly like sex. Ryan’s sure the scent will only grow stronger. “Fuck, you feel—!”

“Back atcha,” Shane replies, shakily. He turns his head and brushes a kiss over Ryan’s ear. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, don’t apologize.” Ryan sits up and slides his hands up to Shane’s shoulders. “I mean, it _probably_ is your fault, but I’m not _mad_.” He rolls his hips experimentally and sighs, pleased at the feeling, pleased with the way Shane’s mouth drops open.

His words don’t go unnoticed. Shane blinks up at him. “How is this _my_ fault?”

Ryan clears his throat and keeps his voice steady even as he’s keenly aware of Shane, hard and heavy and hot inside him. _“Oh demons! Come on out demons! Come curse us and ruin our lives and shit!”_ Ryan speaks loudly, in his best approximation of Shane’s voice. He grins down at Shane, pleased.

“I don’t sound like that, one.” Shane is very pointedly not looking down—where Ryan’s own cock is stiff and protruding from his trimmed nest of pubes. Ryan tries not to feel offended. He wants Shane to look; he wants Shane to at least _enjoy_ this.

Shane continues. “Two, I’ve never once specifically asked a ghost to curse us _like this_. Just, y’know, killing us, or possessing us, or whatever.”

“The ‘ _or whatever_ ’ leaves a lot of room for interpretation.” Ryan finally rises up again and slowly slides back down. He gasps and swallows a moan. “Could be worse,” he admits as he starts to build up a rhythm. Shane’s just lying there, watching him, eyes wide and mouth gaping. It’s kind of flattering, but a little off-putting too. “Dude, c’mon.”

“What?” Shane rasps. His eyes look a little glazed.

“You’re just fucking laying there.” Ryan slows down as a cold dread fills him. It’s not as if he hasn’t thought of this before, and even though it’s not happening in an ideal way, again, Shane could be a _little_ more enthusiastic. “The least you could do is, shit, I don’t know. Maybe look less like a corpse? Ghosts or not—!”

Shane’s hips snap up suddenly and steal the rest of Ryan’s words. “Sorry, sorry,” he’s muttering. “You just—Ryan, you don’t understand—you _look_ —!” Shane’s eyes flutter shut and he lets out a heavy breath. He’s holding Ryan’s hips tight enough to bruise. “You don’t get it.”

Ryan’s heart hammers in his chest. “What don’t I get?”

Shane shakes his head. He slides down the bed and plants his feet flat on the mattress so that he can thrust up into Ryan easier, harder, deeper. Ryan moans each time Shane thrusts home; they’re choked-off and loud bursts of noise, and the faster Shane goes, the less clear Ryan’s thoughts become.

Ryan wants to make Shane elaborate, wants to get inside that enormous noggin, but, well, it feels _good_. Ryan hasn’t been fucked in way too long, and Shane is long and just the right thickness to make it a _stretch_ but not painful. Ryan clenches around Shane and at least relishes the gasp he gets. Ryan works his thighs again, even as the muscles quiver, and meets Shane thrust for thrust until they’re both panting.

“I’m sorry,” Shane says again, a low hiss, almost quiet enough that Ryan misses it.

“I told you, you don’t need to apologize.” Ryan forces his eyes open to see Shane staring back at him. Chocolate brown eyes are half-lidded and Shane keeps licking his lips, over and over. Ryan leans forward and presses his forehead against Shane’s. “Shane, Shane, listen to me.”

Shane shudders, and Ryan takes it as _“I’m listening.”_

“This feels _good_.” Ryan speaks low and softly, the only other noise in the room is the sound of their bodies coming together apart with slick slaps. There’s no disgust on Shane’s face; if anything, there’s something tentative, like hope, mingling with the not entirely unwelcome desire. “I want this. It’s not—it’s not ideal circumstances, but it feels good. _You_ feel good.”

Shane swallows loud enough for Ryan to hear, so he keeps going.

“You’re so fucking big,” and okay, that’s not really what Ryan meant to say. He was going to try and keep the same soft tone. But Shane’s hips jump and strike him deeper and Ryan’s thoughts veer wildly off track. “You feel so good inside me.” Ryan shivers and says, quietly, reverently, “you’re fucking me so good, Shane.”

A broken noise falls from Shane’s lips and the air hits Ryan’s lips.

“Shane,” Ryan moans. He’s struck with the sudden urge to kiss him, but they haven’t talked about that, and he’s pretty sure if he springs that on Shane now, the world might explode. So he turns his head and brushes his lips over Shane’s cheek instead. Ryan yelps in surprise when Shane’s hands migrate to gripping his ass instead of his hips; they didn’t talk about _that_ either, but Ryan’s not going to complain.

“I want,” Shane finally speaks. His grip tightens and relaxes, but he never lets go of Ryan’s ass.

“Anything,” Ryan agrees.

“On your back.”

And then they’re rolling, grappling for each other and Ryan clenching to keep Shane inside him as they switch positions. Shane’s hands find purchase on the bed instead of Ryan’s ass, and Ryan misses the warmth immediately. Ryan’s head hits the pillow with a soft _oomph_ and then Shane’s over him, looming, and thrusting so deep Ryan sees stars for a second. He lets out a wail and finally lets go of Shane’s shoulder to slam his hand against the headboard above him.

“Fuck, Shane!”

Shane huffs a laugh and reaches between them to curl a hand around Ryan’s cock. “That’s it,” he murmurs. He thrusts carefully, pulling almost entirely out before slamming back in. Each thrust forward has the tip of Shane’s dick hitting Ryan’s prostate and pushing him closer to orgasm.

“Shane, yes, _yes_.” Ryan presses his face against the pillow, looking for relief but finding the fabric heated and slightly damp from his and Shane’s sweat. “So good, you feel so good inside of me. So fucking _big_.”

Shane laughs again and leans down to press a kiss to the dip in Ryan’s collarbone. “Never took you for a size queen, Bergara.”

Ryan rolls his eyes. “Not that.” He wraps an arm around Shane’s shoulders and tugs him closer. “It’s just—it’s _you_.”

Shane’s thrusts falter and his eyes widen. “Shit, Ryan.” There’s a flush high on his cheeks and he can’t seem to find his rhythm again. “Gonna come.”

Ryan uncurls his hand from the headboard and reaches for his dick; he pushes Shane’s hand aside, almost regretfully, but it’s worth it to grip himself the exact way he needs. Ryan twists his hand on the upward stroke, just under the head, moaning. “Do it, Shane, come inside me.”

Shane groans. His eyes flutter shut as his hips slam forward one last time. Ryan squirms at the feeling of come inside him, the feeling of Shane’s dick pulsing. Faintly, he’s aware of Shane panting his name under his breath as his hips swivel in little aborted circles.

Ryan strokes himself faster until his orgasm finally catches up to him, hits him suddenly and _hard_. He arches his back as come spills over his fist and onto his stomach. He clenches around Shane’s cock and milks him dry until Shane’s hissing with oversensitivity. He doesn’t pull out, instead he just falls against Ryan, breathing heavy.

Ryan accepts the closeness and wipes his hand on the bedsheets before curling his arms around Shane. “So…” His heart is fluttering with the knowledge they’re going to actually talk about, like, feelings and shit.

“It’s not going away.”

“What?” Ryan sits up a bit as Shane does the same. Sure enough, trapped between their stomachs, Ryan’s cock is still hard. He groans and falls back onto the sheets. Again, he clenches around Shane’s dick and yep, still hard there too.

Shane shakes his head. “I thought—if we—?”

“They’re ghosts, nothing ever said they’d be logical.”

“It’s not ghosts,” Shane replies immediately. “Whatever it is, though… Definitely not logical.” He looks at Ryan from under his eyelashes. “I’m gonna, or, should I, uh. Pull out?”

“Uh, yeah.” Ryan covers his laugh with a cough that’s not convincing at all, judging by Shane’s raised eyebrow. Ryan shivers as Shane pulls out and come dribbles from his stretched hole. “What do we do?”

Shane’s brow furrows. He’s looking intently at Ryan’s dick at this point, and Ryan barely resists the urge to cover himself up. The scrutiny does nothing for Ryan’s erection, or for the fever that’s starting up again, just under his skin. It feels the same as it did a half hour, forty minutes ago: sweaty and clammy, his skin too hot and too tight.

The unbearable arousal coupled with the fever had driven him and Shane to tearing off their clothes, sitting naked on the bed trying to ignore the problem, before finally diving for one another. It’d been a blessing that they found lube in the bedside table, otherwise Ryan thinks he might’ve gone out of his mind. Now, after the fact, he still feels a little like he’s going insane. At least Shane’s long for the ride.

“What if,” Shane starts. He stops and shakes his head. “It’s stupid.”

“I don’t want to die from a boner,” Ryan replies. “So lay it on me, stupid or not.”

Shane reaches out and lays a hand on Ryan’s thigh. It’s warm, _too_ warm, but comforting. Grounding. “What if we kissed?”

Ryan’s heart leaps into his throat. “You think that…?”

Shane shrugs. “Worth a shot, right?”

“Right.” Ryan scrambles to sit up. His legs still bracket Shane’s legs and he holds Shane by the shoulders. “Worth a shot,” he repeats.

Shane’s throat bobs as he swallows. “This won’t make things weird, right?”

Ryan can’t help it. He laughs. “Things are already weird,” he points out. “A kiss isn’t going to hurt.”

Shane nods along. “Yeah, yeah, okay, so how—?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Ryan leans in and kisses Shane to shut him up.

At first it’s a soft kiss, lips on chapped lips, but then Shane tilts his head and Ryan moves closer and the kiss deepens. Shane opens his mouth and Ryan takes the opportunity to taste him. He tastes salty-sweat and spit and the faint mint from Shane’s toothpaste. Ryan sighs into the kiss and Shane’s hand on his thigh tightens for a second.

They both pull away shaking and breathing heavy. Together, they look down at their laps and groan. Their cocks haven’t softened in the slightest.

“Nope,” Ryan says. “Still worth it,” he adds with a shy glance at Shane.

Shane looks sour for a second, but then he meets Ryan’s gaze and his cheeks flush deeper. “Yeah still worth it.”

Ryan grins. “Any other bright ideas?”

“We could kiss again,” Shane offers.

Ryan nods. “Okay.” He cups the back of Shane’s head and draws him in for another kiss. Slowly, seamlessly, they fall back onto the bed. Their legs tangle and Shane’s presses all up against Ryan’s body. The constant boners are annoying but each time they brush, Ryan can’t help the spike of lust in his veins.

They kiss for what feels like hours, until they’re grinding desperately against each other. Shane’s bucking his cock against Ryan’s hip and Ryan is riding Shane’s thigh hard enough that the bed shakes.

“I did,” Shane gasps, “I did have one other idea.”

“Can we come first?” Ryan says. “I really want to come first.”

Shane laughs into Ryan’s mouth. “Yeah, good idea.”

Ryan squeaks when Shane’s hand wraps around him and strokes him quick and tight and just a little slick. Ryan’s dimly aware of the oversensitivity, how it’s too much but not enough at the same time. All the same, he fucks into Shane’s fist and comes abruptly when Shane bites at his bottom lip. He’s left dazed and dizzy and by the time his brain comes back online, Shane’s jerking off with his come-slick hand.

“Fuck, Shane, let me—?” He stretches his hand out and barely skirts his fingers over the tip of Shane’s cock before the other man is coming. Shane’s come spurts onto Ryan’s stomach, where the come from earlier has already dried. Ryan inhales sharply at the sight of it, knowing it’s Shane’s come on him igniting a fire in his gut. At this rate, they’re going to go for round three in no time.

“God, _Ryan_ ,” Shane breathes as he slowly lets go of Ryan’s dick. He rubs his sticky hand on Ryan’s hip. “I love you.”

Ryan freezes. Shane freezes, too. They separate slightly and Ryan can see Shane starting to wig out. It’s rare, but familiar enough to Ryan.

“Uh,” Shane says eloquently.

Even distracted, Ryan notices it first. “Holy shit!” He shouts with a glance between their bodies. Finally, his cock is flaccid and so is Shane’s. Ryan never thought he could be so happy to see his dick _soft_. “It worked!”

Shane looks down so quick he bangs his head against Ryan’s. They both yelp in pain and scramble away from each other, cradling their heads. When the faint throbbing pain subsides, they’re side by side. They both turn back to each other. Ryan’s grinning, whereas Shane looks as scared as Ryan’s ever seen him.

“Listen, Ryan—?”

“I love you too,” Ryan says. “I do.”

Shane stops, his mouth hanging open.

Ryan cautiously scoots closer. He keeps going until he’s back in Shane’s lap and cupping Shane’s cheeks. “Shane?”

“You’re telling me ghosts wanted us to admit our love for each other, so they made us fuck?”

Ryan hums. “Well, the boners went away after _you_ confessed, so I stand by my earlier statement that this is all your fault.”

“It’s _not_!”

Ryan kisses him to shut him up again. He melts into the kiss and memorizes the feeling of Shane relaxing underneath him. There’s no urgency in this kiss, no sense of danger. It’s leisurely and tender, and Ryan sinks to lay half on top of Shane. In an almost hilarious parody of earlier, they kiss until their lips hurt—but their dicks aren’t hard, and Ryan’s still kind of grateful for that.

“It’s not totally my fault,” Shane whispers into Ryan’s mouth. “But I will accept some responsibility.”

Ryan grins. “I forgive you.”

Shane stares at him with sleep-heavy eyes. Ryan can feel sleep tugging at him too. “Good,” Shane murmurs. “We should put clothes on.”

Ryan shrugs half-heartedly. “I’ve got an alarm set, we can get dressed before the crew gets back.”

Shane hums. “Alright.”

 

 

Ryan wakes up tangled in the blankets and tangled with Shane, with TJ’s phone trained on them. TJ raises an eyebrow at them. Ryan spares a quick second to make sure they’re decent, and thank god they are, because he’s pretty sure Teej is _filming_.

“Dude,” he hisses.

TJ smirks, taps his phone and then pockets it. “See you down in ten?”

“Give us twenty.”

“You get fifteen.” TJ shuts the door behind him, and Ryan realizes Shane is awake.

“I think we’re Instagram official, now,” Ryan says by way of greeting.

“Are you okay with that?” Shane says before furrowing his brow. “Would Teej really post us naked on the ‘Gram?”

Ryan shrugs. “Wouldn’t put it past him.”

Shane shakes his head. “He probably just sent it to literally everyone as Buzzfeed, which is really about the same. I’ll ask again: are you okay with that?”

Ryan kisses him as an answer.

Shane kisses back.

“You have to admit ghosts are real on camera,” Ryan says as they finally separate. They don’t make a move to climb off the bed quite yet.  

“Not a chance,” Shane says.

Ryan kisses the dumb smirk off his face.


End file.
